Up, Up, and Away
by SnarkItOut
Summary: Kurt and Blaine were always meant to be, ever since they met as children. That moment when Kurt showed Blaine his Glamour Book, they had a plan. One day, they would go to New York together, cross-your-heart-promise. Klaine; crossover with Pixar's Up!
1. Chapter 1

Title:_ Up, Up and Away_

Author: SnarkyGirl101/SnarkItOut

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Character death

Summary: Kurt and Blaine were always meant to be, ever since they met as children. That moment when Kurt showed Blaine his Glamour Book, they had a plan. One day, they would go to New York together, cross-your-heart-promise. Klaine; crossover with Pixar's Up!, with Kurt and Blaine as Carl and Ellie.

A/N: This is just something that struck me, "what if Kurt and Blaine had been like Carl and Ellie?" I wanted to see that dynamic, see how they would grow as a couple if they had known each other as children. Sadly, nothing was written, so I decided to start writing it myself. I hope you enjoy this; it was a pleasure to write!

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><p>It wasn't like Blaine to be allowed to walk around just anywhere on a sunny Saturday afternoon. There were piano lessons and social dinners for his parents to drag him to, but today was different. The piano teacher had fallen sick, and there were no boring parties that Blaine had to go to.<p>

In his hand he clutched his sacred object, something he'd been saving up for the past three weeks to get. He looked both ways as he crossed the street, listening to what his mother had told him just the other day. Sometimes he thought it silly that his parents remind him of such things. He's ten years old now; he knew how to cross the street!

Blaine stopped in front of a comfortable little house, and saw a little boy, maybe a little younger than himself, sitting at a table with stuffed animals in chairs and a pot of tea in the middle of the organized chaos. The brunette boy was generously pouring tea for his guests, who all happened to be dressed for the occasion in little bow ties, while Blaine watched in fascination. Mother and Father never let him play this game. He remembered his cousin once invited him over to play tea party, and he was ready to go over and eat a ginger cookie, but his father had given him a mean look. Usually when Blaine was on the end of that mean look, it meant that Blaine shouldn't do whatever he was about to do. So he hadn't, and instead had to sit with all the boring adults talk about their cars and politics.

But Father wasn't here. Looking behind him to make sure, he confirmed it. There were no parents to stop him from at least watching the tea party.

Edging closer, Blaine tried to subtly get closer without being noticed. But being ten years old, subtlety was not something that Blaine possessed. The boy looked up suddenly, blinking owlishly at who would dare to interrupt his passing out little sandwiches.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" asked the boy, and Blaine stepped back.

"Um, I, I," stammered Blaine, holding the object to his chest even tighter.

The boy huffed, getting up from his chair and pushing his bangs back with a look that had Blaine stepping back even farther. "Well come on, what do you want? You have to want something, don't you?"

"But, I," mumbled Blaine, looking down at the ground, embarrassed. This boy was smart, and very confident in himself. And all Blaine was doing was looking like a gorilla doof. Suddenly, he heard a gasp.

"Is that August's issue of _Vogue_? Even my mommy hasn't gotten that yet!" Blaine looked up to see the boy's face totally lit up, and he giggled to himself when the boy jumped up and down. "Could I see it? Could I read it with you? Please, please, please?"

"S-sure," said Blaine, walking closer.

The boy put a hand forward, stopping Blaine in his tracks. "But first things first, my mommy always told me not to talk to strangers, so. My name's Kurt, what's yours?"

"B-blaine," he said. Kurt's hand turned into an open palm, offering his hand to be shaken. This Blaine could do; he was used to dinner parties and having to shake and kiss hands. When he took Kurt's hand, he felt how soft they were, and without even thinking, kissed Kurt's hand.

Blaine looked up, startled, realizing he was supposed to shake. But Kurt was still as chipper as ever, maybe even happier after he had kissed his hand. "Well that settles that, we're not strangers anymore! Now come over to my table, I'll give you some snacks to make up for you letting me read your magazine." Kurt grasped Blaine's hand, and pulled him through the gate to the table. Kurt quickly picked up a stuffed animal and set it in the picnic basket underneath the table and gestured for Blaine to sit in the chair next to his. Blaine sat down tentatively, looking at the table in awe. He was sitting at a real live tea party!

"Want a cucumber sandwich? My mommy made them for me and my friends over here, but for some reason, they don't seem very hungry." In a lower voice, in what was supposed to be a whisper, "just go along with it, I know they're not real, but I like to pretend they do. More friends that way."

"Okay," whispered Blaine back. "And yes, I'd l-love to have a cucumber sandwich."

Kurt delicately set the sandwich on a plate for Blaine and then proceeded to make room for the magazine. Once that was done, they both reverently put the magazine in front of them.

"That's in Milan," said Kurt, staring at the page of a woman lying on the floor. "And that's Moo-chia Prada." The pronunciation was off, but neither one commented on it. "Did you know she's one of the biggest fashion designers ever? My mommy sometimes gets her things."

"Whoa, that's cool," said Blaine. "My mommy gets some of her stuff too, even her smell!"

"That is cool," gushed Kurt, smiling at Blaine. They looked at each other and grinned even wider, when Kurt suddenly stood up, puffing out his chest. "One day, I'm going to Milan to see all the pretty clothes in person! But you know where I'm going to live?" Kurt stopped for a beat, and then answered. "In New York City!"

Blaine looked up at Kurt, mystified. "Wow, really?"

Kurt looked down at Blaine and nodded firmly. "Of course. That's where lots and lots of designers and singers live, and if I want to be one, I have to live there too! I have it in my Glamour Book, wanna see?" Blaine nodded and Kurt quickly reached into the picnic basket. As Kurt brandished the diary in front of him, Blaine noted the glitter letters spelling out "My Glamur Book." Kurt flipped open to the first page decorated in pony stickers and monster trucks. "Dad gave me those stickers; I thought this was the best place for them. But see, under 'Things I'm Going to Do?' That's where I'm gonna put all the things I'm gonna do!"

"Wow," said Blaine, looking at the drawing of a map.

"I stole this from my teacher's desk, slipped it right off!" crowed Kurt. "She was going to throw it out anyways, so I saved it. And see right there? That's Milan. Not like Mulan, the warrior, but the country." Spreading out the paper even more, Kurt then jabbed high up on the United States. "And there's New York City, where I'm going to live and be on Broadway! Mr. Schuester, you know him right?" Blaine nodded; he knew of him. Mr. Schuester had been their teacher last year, but he had gone out to New York to be on Broadway and make his dreams come true. No one had heard from him since, so everyone assumed he had made those dreams come true. Well, I'm going to be just like him and move there and make it big!"

"That's just… wow," repeated Blaine. His eyes were glued to the page. If anyone could get to New York City, it was clearly Kurt.

"And you're coming with me." Blaine looked up. What?

"What?" said Blaine aloud.

"You're obviously coming with me, Blaine. We're meant to go together and see all the pretty clothes. You need to cross your heart and promise, Blaine. We need to go together." Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Promise – cross your heart!"

"I-I promise," said Blaine and he quickly crossed his heart. Kurt's glare diminished and then he smiled broadly.

"Then it's settled! One day, when we're older, we're going to New York City!"

Blaine nodded his head enthusiastically when suddenly he heard his name called. Looking toward the voice, he realized it was his father. Quickly hiding the magazine under the table, Blaine stood up so he could be found.

"Blaine Anderson! You get over here right now!" Blaine looked at his father and then back to a disgruntled Kurt, who was mad that his play partner was being called away.

"Is that your dad?" asked Kurt, wrinkling his nose at the angry man.

"Yeah," whispered Blaine. "I have to go, but I promise we'll play again, okay? Promise?"

Kurt grinned. "Promise."

"Blaine!"

"I'm coming!" called Blaine and he trotted over to his father as fast as his little legs could carry him. Blaine walked over to his father, only to have his arm roughly pulled closer to his father.

"When I call, Blaine, you come. You don't dilly-dally."

"Yes, sir." Blaine looked back one more time to see Kurt reaching under the table for the magazine and looking back at him. He waved the magazine, questioning, but Blaine shook his head vehemently. Father couldn't know about the magazine; he'd have a fit.

~Up~

That night, as he lay in his bed wishing he hadn't left the magazine behind, he heard tapping coming from the wall. Wrinkling his forehead in confusion, Blaine got out of bed to see what was happening. Looking out the window, he saw Kurt trying to throw pebbles at the window from the tree he was dangling.

Blaine quickly opened the window, only to have a pebble strike him on the nose. "Ouch!" he yelped.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay," whispered Blaine. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you back your magazine, silly. I know you didn't even get to read it before your dad came along." Kurt reached into the bag he had slung over his shoulder and pulled out _Vogue_. "It's really good. I took the time to read it before bringing it back."

"Thanks," whispered Blaine as he reached out for it. Holding it carefully, he pulled it inside and set it on the window seat. "Would you like to come in?"

Kurt gnawed his lip, debating. "Well, I should be getting back home; I told Daddy I was only going to the back yard to pick up all my stuffed animals, but I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt." Kurt eyed the distance from the tree to the window and then jumped suddenly, scaring Blaine.

"Kurt, you should be more careful!" warned Blaine.

Kurt scoffed. "What's the fun in that? You've got to live a little!"

"I suppose so…" Blaine wasn't so sure of this whole "taking risks." His parents always said to wait it out and do something when you knew for sure it would work out.

"If you just sit around waiting for the perfect moment, Blaine, it'll never work out," explained Kurt. "My Daddy told me that."

"You have a smart daddy," said Blaine with awe.

"Yup, he is! And speaking of him, I should probably get back. I know he worries sometimes." Kurt walked up in front of Blaine and gave him a huge hug. Blaine felt like he was wrapped up in a warm blanket, despite Kurt being smaller than him. "Promise to come again by my house? It turns out we only live across the street from each other."

"I promise," said Blaine and he crossed his heart quickly, remembering Kurt earlier in the day.

"Good. I expect to see you promptly at 11 A.M. for our lunch date. Late guests are not given dessert." Kurt stepped back to the window, fussing with his shoulder bag to make sure it hadn't been scratched. "You know, you don't say a whole lot, but I think I can change that, once you get to know me. Promise to say whatever you want next time, okay? I think I'm starting to like you." Kurt grinned at him and then climbed over to the tree. Blaine moved toward the window to watch Kurt slide down the tree.

Blaine watched as he looked both ways on the street and quickly ran across to his back yard. Today, Blaine Anderson had someone who he could read _Vogue_ with and enjoy tea parties—someone who wanted to hear him talk.

Today, Blaine Anderson had made a friend.

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><p>AN: Thoughts? Critiques? Any comments whatsoever? Tell 'em to me! :] I hope to have another chapter up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So I'm almost on schedule with how I hope to update, I'm only a few chapters ahead of this one right here. I'm hoping to have a free weekend to catch up and get ahead so updating will run a bit more smoothly. I hope to update every week, but I cannot guarantee that fully yet. Of course, if any of you were to contact my college and tell them to shut down for a while, that might help the process. Alack, no snow! And onto the story.

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><p>And that friend would go on to not only be his best friend, but his life partner. His missing puzzle piece, as he liked to joke after they had finally "smooched" as Kurt labeled it in his backyard with Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" blaring from the radio.<p>

On their wedding day (tastefully decorated by Kurt with Blaine's "help") Blaine had never felt so alive. He looked over at his part of the family, somber and disapproving. They were still under the impression that Blaine was still going through a phase and that he'd eventually man up. He turned back to Kurt who was grinning at his father while Finn was patting Kurt on the back. Blaine took a moment to watch how proud Burt was, and then they all turned to him. Burt came over and clapped him on the back as well and said, "I'm proud of you, son."

Yes, Blaine realized, Kurt's family was now his own too, something that made him even happier. He definitely knew where they were going for the holidays.

After the wedding Kurt and Blaine settled down in their own house, just a little out of Seattle, Washington. As a grudging gift, his parents had paid off a slightly run down, but still gorgeous, house. They were so happy at finally having a place together which was legally their own, they didn't even comment on the snide remarks that they probably wouldn't stick together long anyways.

But nothing could dissuade Kurt from redecorating to make the home match them and their very essence. As they picked out new furniture, trying out every couch and chair at Kurt's insistence, Blaine never felt like any of this would end, that they'd be this happy new couple in love for the rest of their lives. Taking Kurt's hand as they walked down the street to their home with lighter checkbooks to their home, Blaine knew that this was the real deal; they were going to last forever.

"You know, I think we should start a piggy bank or something to raise money to go to New York," said Blaine casually. "After all, we promised each other that we'd do it, right?"

"Yes, I do believe we did, didn't we?" said Kurt as he rubbed his hand against Blaine's, seeking warmth. "I made you cross your heart and everything."

"Well, I better hold up to it, shouldn't I? Because I wouldn't want to be struck down where I stand if I didn't do as Mr. Kurt Anderson-Hummel said."

"That's a very smart move, Mr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel. You are a very intelligent man. Do you know what the intelligent thing to do right now would be?" asked Kurt, slyly looking over at Blaine.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, smirking. "What would that be?"

Kurt got even closer than he had before, until he was resting his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "To take me home, push me down on our new bed and christen it," whispered Kurt into Blaine's ear.

"That," said Blaine with a growl "is a very smart thing to do. Now for the unsmart part."

"What's that?"

Blaine took a step back from Kurt and began running down the street and yelled back "Race you there!"

"Blaine, are you serious? I have the keys!"

"Doesn't stop me from trying! Now hurry up!"

Kurt and Blaine were starting small traditions, things that they both decided were things that made each other truly feel like home. Blaine had jokingly begun yelling out "honey, I'm home!" whenever he knew Kurt was already there, and Kurt always straightened out his bowties every morning. Kurt said they were always crooked, but Blaine let it slide for the way that Kurt's hand would lightly brush past his shoulder, tickling his ear and causing his head to lean into Kurt's hand. They never talked about that gesture- it just was a part of their relationship and who they were.

Bringing home a can of new paint meant a new project for the weekend, especially when Kurt donned his painting shorts, a little incentive that Blaine always enjoyed. By the time the room was completely painted, Kurt's shorts had managed to gain a new color of handprints all over them and somehow, they were washing paint off their skin and hair for the next couple of days.

And on cold winter nights, they would snuggle into their favorite furniture piece, the love seat. Sometimes there was a movie playing, sometimes they were cozying up to each other with hot chocolate, and sometimes, they lay there wrapped in each other's arms after a particularly long day. It was soothing, and it made both of them smile to look at the slightly worn sofa and how it sagged a little on their favorite side. It was no matter; it was theirs and it was tradition.

Other traditions began to grow as friends came to visit for holidays, birthdays, and later bridal and baby showers. Kurt always had a bin of basic decorations ready and waiting for any event imaginable, and Blaine had hidden stashes of glue guns and bedazzlers just in case. They liked to host; it was just something they enjoyed do together. And as their funds grew, they were finally able to rent, and eventually own, a dance studio.

The dance studio was for young children, teaching them jazz, modern dance, and some ballet. Blaine would teach basic ballet while Kurt took on modern dancing. At the end of the day, the kids would beg them to dance together in a soft shoe number or a classical piece, and they'd try to oblige. But the kids always made sure that Kurt did the hitch-kick, because it was "so cool."

As Blaine and Kurt set up their dance studio, they still tried to make sure they put every stray penny into the New York fund that was held in a glass vase by the key hook. As months passed, the vase started to accumulate a decent amount of change, much to their enthusiasm, only to find water damage in the dance studio's ceiling. And so the vase was dumped to pay for the studio's repairs.

The vase's funds would grow, only for it to be poured out again for a hospital bill, emergency ticket back home to Ohio, or for refurbishments on their home.

But that didn't stop them from going out and enjoying themselves. There were still all the wonders of Seattle to enjoy, even if it wasn't New York. They would race to their favorite place near Freeway Park, 5th Avenue Theatre, where Kurt and Blaine watched their very first Broadway show, Rent together.

They'd try to see who could weave through the people the quickest to the little nook where they shared their first kiss after seeing Rent all those years ago. Usually Kurt could beat him because he was much more ruthless than Blaine was, willing to push people out of the way to win.

And later, in the park just a few miles from their home, they sat with a well prepared picnic. As they had laid out on a blanket, both staring at the clouds rolling by, Blaine heard giggling coming their way. Blaine looked up to see a family of three kids playing tag with each other, running around in their fall jackets as the parents yelled for them to wrap their scarves around their necks.

They were almost forty-five now, mused Blaine as he watched the kids begin to wiggle and dance in place. Blaine watched for a little longer when he felt Kurt reach for his hand, and looked back to him.

"Kids, huh?"

"Yeah," replied Blaine, "kids."

"Do you sometimes think about adopting? Or a surrogate?" asked Kurt, watching Blaine carefully.

"I do," admitted Blaine. "Is this something that you want too?"

"Yes, I really do too," said Kurt as he squeezed Blaine's hand.

"Then let's try," said Blaine, now determined.

But things never turn out exactly as planned, Blaine thought sadly as he held Kurt's hand like a lifeline. Their identical distraught faces looked to the sympathetic social worker that sat behind the desk.

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Hummel, but there's just no way for this to feasibly happen. While your income is steady enough, and you both seem like very well-put together people… But we have a policy about allowing adoption when one of the parents has or had cancer."

"How long do we have to wait for the cancer to go into remission?" asked Blaine.

"Five years, typically. That's the usual amount of time to see if the patient can survive past the cancer." The social worker looked at them with kindness and continued. "There's still hope. I've helped many couples adopt after cancer. I believe that you can both do it, if you have each other."

They both looked at each other, still grasping each other's hand like a lifeline. "You're right," said Kurt as he looked into Blaine's red-rimmed eyes (ones that matched his own.) "I think we can do this."

Years passed; every day the same tradition of Kurt straightening Blaine's bowtie, brushing his ear and gently caressing his cheek for that brief moment every morning before they headed to work.

Kurt's cancer had been in remission for a few years now, finally after such a long time. After treatments, ones they never tried to talk about because "Blaine, I never want to remember a time when my hair fell out. _Never." _It wasn't only that, he knew, but he followed Kurt's wishes, and they tried to pretend that wasn't something that worried each other all the time.

But they realized sadly that their time to be young enough and be able to take care of children were over. They were almost in their seventies! As much as they had wished for children, two kids, even one child, it wasn't meant to be. There was still the guest bedroom they had begun to decorate in a soft green, hoping for any child that could be welcomed into the family. There were even a few toys stuffed into the closet for whenever Rachel and Finn's kids had come to visit. Kurt and Blaine took great delight in playing uncles to these kids, but watching them leave to go back home always broke their hearts a little more.

As they grew older, the dance classes were taken over by younger, spryer dancers that wanted to teach. They still walked the fourteen blocks down to the studio every morning they could to open up and still teach the little whipper-snappers a few lessons on soft shoe. And when everyone had gone home, Blaine would sometimes turn on songs that reminded them of each other, of their relationship, and they would slowly rock together, just completely immersed in each other.

One day as they were "fall cleaning," Kurt working his way through the kitchen as Blaine dusted the foyer, Blaine's eyes landed onto the jar that they had been throwing pennies and dimes into the for the past fifty years without a thought. It had become an instinct to empty their pockets at the end of the day as they hung up their keys. But when he looked at the vase- the vase they had been putting money into for _years, _Blaine remembered the reason behind it.

New York. They had promised each other- _cross your heart promise each other-_ that they would go there. They would go to New York and finally see a "real" fashion show.

They had been to multiple fashion shows in Seattle, anything they could drop into over the years, but this was about their plans, their adventures. And throughout the years Kurt had joked that they should try to sneak onto a Broadway stage, just for laughs, but Blaine knew if they had the chance, they would. At that moment, Blaine realized he had to make it come true.

There was a revival of Rent at the 5th Avenue theatre again, something he knew that Kurt would be so interested to see—the perfect time to then slip the tickets to New York out of his pocket with a sly old grin and have Kurt jumping into his arms like when they were young.

But that moment never came, thought Blaine sadly as he held Kurt's hand that was hooked up to an I.V. Back in the hospital—Kurt had barely made it through the crowd when he had collapsed, leaving Blaine colder than he had ever felt in his life.

Holding Kurt's hand in the familiar hospital room was almost like an extension of home; a home that was slightly bleak and not nearly decorated enough, but it was home because they were there together.

Kurt held in his hand a binder, a binder that Blaine knew very well. Most of the glitter had been rubbed off, but the glue still proudly read "My Glamur Book."

"I think, out of every tangible possession I own, this is by far my favorite," said Kurt as he rubbed lightly at the binding. He looked up at Blaine, his eyes watery. "And I want you to take it, Blaine."

"Kurt," started Blaine, but Kurt shook his head.

"No, we both know what's happening, despite not talking about it," said Kurt, smiling. "I'm dying. And it's okay; I've lived a wonderful, full life. A life I wouldn't change a bit because every moment was with you."

"We can still do this, Kurt. You'll get better, I promise," pleaded Blaine, gripping Kurt's hand tighter. "Please don't leave me."

"Oh Blaine, you know I'll never say goodbye to you." Kurt pushed the book forward, onto Blaine's lap. "With this adventure, I'll be there every step of the way. I know you already bought the tickets—did you really think I wouldn't notice when I do our finances?"

Blaine shook his head ruefully. "I honestly hadn't thought about that, I just wanted to make you happy."

Kurt shook his head, laughing. "Oh Blaine, you've made me so happy these past sixty-one years, ever since we were little kids back in Lima. You've made me one of the happiest people alive, just because of how you are. Please, Blaine, do this for me. Go on this adventure, live a little!"

Blaine smiled at Kurt echoing himself from all those years ago. That's what clinched it. "I promise I'll go. But only when I'm good and ready."

Kurt gave him a bemused look. "I suppose that's all I can ask for. Just promise me- cross your heart promise that you'll go."

Blaine solemnly crossed his heart. He then leaned over the hospital bed, his knees aching with the effort as he pecked Kurt's lips. "And sealed with a kiss."

It wasn't for another week until Kurt finally passed away. Blaine knew he had promised to Kurt to go to New York, but right now it just hurt too much. It was too soon; he was now just getting used to Kurt not being there every morning to fix his tie, to sit together as they drank their morning coffee, to walk down the block to the studio, to dance together to a slower version of "Teenage Dream" Blaine had found years ago.

It was just so hard to move on when there was so much he wanted to hold onto. Blaine isolated himself and became bitter that Kurt was gone. New York was forgotten for a long time.

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><p>AN: So, thoughts? I wanted to stay as true to Kurt and Blaine as what characterization they have been given so far, and with the upcoming chapters I'm going to take some liberties as to how I think Blaine will act as an older man. Until next time! :]


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ackkkk! I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, there were lots of midterms and that fun thing called a "job" that kept getting in the way. Anyways, enough excuses.

I hope you guys are all enjoying the story as much as I do; it's been fun to write. I've been trying to make sure that while this is a crossover that it still holds a lot of ground as being about Kurt and Blaine, not just Carl and Ellie. I wanted them to have their own traditions and things that made them a freakin' adorable couple that have known each other for so many years. Onto the third chapter!

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><p>When Blaine heard the knock on his door, he thought nothing of it but to just huff and ignore it. It was probably some solicitor or those pesky neighbors next door that had made it their life mission to check up on the "poor old widow next door, bless his soul."<p>

Blaine found the grumpier he was, the more likely he could get rid of people. So he muttered, mumbled, and murmured everyone out of his life until he was finally alone.

Life went on. There were still bills to pay and the studio to run while he looked for someone to take charge. It only took a few short weeks to find a lovely young dancing couple, Tina and Mike, to take over the dance studio for him. They were more than willing to allow him to go the studio any time he wanted, and often, he would. But sometimes it was just too hard to be in the place that he and Kurt had built their livelihood and prospered all those years.

Just like their home. The house they had made their home after all the years of living there was sometimes too hard to bear as well. But then he would see some knick knack Kurt had placed in a window sill and smile at the memories. There was one particular vase in the front window, one that they had seen in a flea market when they were first married. It had been lovely, a short but slim vase with intricate designs that had initially caught Blaine's eye. When Kurt had looked at the bottom of it, he saw "Made in New York" etched into the porcelain. After that, they knew it was a sign to buy it and have it as a reminder of when they would one day go on their grand adventure.

Dusting the hallway was always something he and Kurt did together, one person cleaning their side of the area until they met at the front door. There they would put both hands over the handle, covering each other's until the person whose hand on top was allowed to bestow the first kiss after cleaning. It was silly, but they loved to see who could sneakily get their hand onto the door last to initiate the kisses that would eventually lead back to the bedroom.

Now that it was only Blaine, it took a little longer to get to the door, but he would still rest his hand on the knob and smile. "We had a wonderful life full of kisses, didn't we Kurt?" asked Blaine to the air, his lips framed with years of laugh lines. He patted the door once more and began to walk back slowly to the living room where the furniture they had picked out early in their marriage still sat. Kurt had always been one to remodel and redecorate, but this furniture always stayed because "furniture like that never goes out of style, Blaine, I know what I'm doing." Blaine knew they actually kept it because of the sentimentality, but he wasn't one to dig at Kurt's embarrassment about being a complete sap. Well, most of the time.

Just as he had almost made it to his chair, he heard a knock at the door.

"Who could it be now? The girl scouts aren't going to be coming by for at least another month," grumbled Blaine as he retraced his steps again. When he finally reached the door and opened it, Blaine saw a young businessman in a suit that he knew Kurt would have appraised.

"Good evening sir, are you the owner of this establishment?" asked the young man, and Blaine eyed him suspiciously.

"Who wants to know?" Blaine asked gruffly.

"I'm with Frederickson's Housing Business, and I was hoping to speak to you about possibly selling your house."

"It's not for sale." Blaine felt possessiveness take over his judgment. What was this man talking about? This was his house; he and Kurt had paid a mortgage on this house since his parents had paid for the down payment right after their wedding. Who was this man to come and offer to buy it off of him?

"I don't mean to be rude, but sir, perhaps you should think this through? How much longer can you keep up with this house once you're a little older? Don't you think this is a little too big for one person?" asked the businessman calmly, and Blaine felt his eyes roam over his wrinkled, slightly stooped appearance. He was no spring chicken, but to comment on his physical ability?

"I don't know who raised you to have such manners, but when I was younger I didn't go around telling my elders that they were old and not capable of taking care of themselves, even if it was said in a subtle way," said Blaine, raising an eyebrow. "Now I'm sorry, but I've really got to go take my Metamucil now, wouldn't want to fall over without my emergency button to groan out 'Help, I've fallen and can't get up!' this early in the morning. Now, good day."

Blaine slammed the door in the man's face, taking pleasure in how he had begun to look embarrassed as Blaine called him out.

Blaine continued to get calls and men in business suits coming to his door to ask if he was selling. And every time, he would reply with a curt no and hang up or slam the door in their face. But the calls began to become more frequent, using words like "eminent domain," "rights" and "soon to be demolished."

It soon dawned on Blaine that no matter what, they were somehow going to get this house because it was in the way of a new government project for an extended Link Light Rail that would branch out from Seattle. And no matter what Blaine could do, they weren't going to stop until he had finally given in and allowed them to wreck the house he had loved and been loved in for over fifty years.

Technically what they were doing was legal; it was a part of the Constitution. Because they were going to use the area for a "public use," Blaine had to pack up everything that made this his home, all the memories and the wonderful times Kurt and Blaine had together. Of course, they had compensated him monetarily, but to Blaine that would never make up for the intangible things he was giving up.

Packing was the hardest part for Blaine. Rachel and Finn had even come out with some of their kids who offered to help pack. That week was probably one of the best he had experienced since Kurt had died, as they all reminisced the good times they had spent together.

"Uncle Blaine, what's this?" asked Barbra, Rachel and Finn's oldest daughter. There was no way that Finn would stop her from at least naming one of their children after her biggest idol.

Blaine looked up from the stack of receipts and bills in their filing cabinet for taxes and the like, when he saw that she was holding Kurt's Glamour Book in her hands. Blaine smiled, reaching out for the book. "This was Kurt's Glamour Book, he said he was going to use it to write and photograph his biggest adventures," said Blaine, gently touching the aged surface of the journal.

"Blaine." He looked up to see Finn and Rachel looking at him, and Rachel squeezed his hand. "I think it's time you finally go on that adventure. It's what Kurt would have wanted."

"I know," said Blaine quietly. "It's just so hard to let all of this go."

"Y'know, you don't have to," said Finn. "At least, not all the stuff. We can keep some of it for you until you figure out where you want to go next."

"Thanks, that really means a lot to me," replied Blaine, smiling up at Finn. Even with age, Finn hadn't really shrunk as much as he had hoped he would. "Some of this will just have to be moved across the country, but for now, storage." Finn and Rachel nodded, understanding.

When they had finally left, Blaine walked throughout the house slowly, drinking in the sight of the home where he had made so many mistakes, had birthdays, anniversaries and had maddeningly wonderful days of sex and pure laziness. It felt odd, letting all of this go, but it was time to move on.

Blaine had refunded the tickets, just after Kurt had died. It was better to save it then to watch it just waste away. But he was still able to hold onto those tickets, the ones that had his and Kurt's names on them, and their seats that were side by side. He'd put them next to their favorite vase, the one from New York they so admired, and just look at them from time to time. But now was not the time for looking. Blaine went over to the table and scooped them up, staring at them for a moment before he put them into Kurt's Glamour Book. Blaine wanted them with him as he traveled to New York to finally have that adventure.

"Looks like we're going, Kurt," said Blaine as he looked to the photo of the two of them on the wall. He kissed his fingers, letting it touch the photographed Kurt's lips and smiled. "It's time to go on an adventure."

* * *

><p>AN: For anyone who is wondering, what they did to Blaine is possible under the Fifth Amendment of the United States' Constitution and "eminent domain." Go look it up, it's real interesting! As for the Link Light Rail, I took a few liberties, guessing that maybe in 50 years or so they might try to extend that Link Light Rail not only from Redmond, but to closer surrounding areas as well. Or who knows? Maybe we'll finally get flying cars and teleportation, wouldn't that be dandy?

As always, I'd love for critiques and commentary! I'm always hoping to improve my writing. :]


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